Broken chairs
Stoves on hot
Cheerios
With milk
On top
Pairs of shoes
Two of kind
Malt and shake
Wrong and right
Wise and smart
All alike
Birds and planes
Both of flight
Children fall
I grow up
Sometimes life's
Just not

Enough

If I thought these dreams
Of things
Unattainable
Were things meant
To glide easy
And tread upon
The arcs
Where
All the clouds
And doubts
Of every
Enigmatic
Tragic
Thing
Stopped
There'd be thought
Persuaded
Lost
Leather men
Thoughts
Of some avoidable
And some
Unexplainable
All of them trickle
With smiles
Growing deeply
Into space
That is submission
Dismissing
Nothing
Sleeping and dreaming
On my
Hard wood floor
Anywhere
Just to be
Close
To something
Grow
Into nothing
The break
Of snapping lead
The twists
And winding sockets
In all
The empty pockets
I've wanted
Masquerading
Patterns
Entertaining
Anything
I'd take anything
For a real night
Maybe,
A truth fight
That emerald ice
Where I create
Some illusion
When all things
Fade
No longer missing
The attainable
But creating
Elusive paths
Where I am
No longer trapped

yours are the only eyes
i want to see
- half open and misty with sleep -
when the sun peeks through the curtains
to remind us
that the window is still open
and our clothes are still on the floor.